


Summer

by purglepurglepurgle



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Costa del Sol, Gen, I have one sentence and it's 'there was a pause', Seaside, Tifa and Aeris being friends, dedicated to 3 different individuals who have obtained legendary status in my friend group, how do people write good prose, my prose is bad and I feel bad, srsly all my fics resemble the i am groot fic, you have given us hours of joy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 16:17:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20343034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purglepurglepurgle/pseuds/purglepurglepurgle
Summary: A summer memory from when the party first went to Costa Del Sol.Note: I'm never fluffy. If you want fluff, in Tifa's words: 'I've got the wrong person'.





	Summer

It was 3am. The beachside bars had lowered the bamboo shutters and stacked up the last of the chairs, so Tifa and Aeris had returned to their hotel room-- though they were unlikely to sleep for a while, giggly on alcohol, caffeine and conversation. Aeris was rummaging through the minifridge while Tifa sprawled out on a bed. The covers were crisp against her limbs. Light sheets; seaside fabric. Glowing gems of materia were strewn around like fairylights. On the floor lay a beaded rug, brightly striped, though it was mostly hidden by their pile of belongings; there was nowhere else to put anything. The two of them were squooshed together in the tiny space; Cloud had been too cheap to get them separate rooms. Oh well. They were having fun.

Aeris pulled a can of something out of the fridge, and passed it to Tifa. "Here's one for you... _hottie_." She exploded into giggles.

Tifa winced. "Not you, too..."

Aeris was referencing the weirdo who'd been following them around, earlier that evening. They'd been in a quiet bar-- sea-salt! sangria!-- enjoying a serious and emotional conversation about their respective Shinra baggage, carthartic and intense and _perfect_, when a shadow had loomed, and next thing they knew, some stranger in a palm-tree-print shirt had plonked himself down in the nonexistent space between their barstools. He was so drunk, he was almost liquid. He'd lumbered into the conversation at random. He'd brought up his yacht, again and again. And he'd spent the next _forever_ clumsily hitting on Tifa, with the now-infamous opening, _"Hey, hottie..."_

So, they'd spent 20% of their evening trying to escape the guy, and the remaining 80% jubilantly dissecting how awful he was.

"I don't know," said Aeris, now, ribbon falling loose, cheeks pink, eyes glittering. "I think you had something special. A kind of soulmate harmony. Now that I think about it, I did hear the planet say you were destined for each other."

"Oh, no, really?" Tifa folded her arms, face unimpressed. "What am I going to do?"

"You'll have to go back out," decided Aeris. "He's probably there right now. Under the window."

Tifa laughed. She went up to the window, tipsily jerked it open, and poured out more of her drink than she meant to. Aeris cackled.

"Hey!" came a shout from outside. They froze.

"No way..." said Tifa.

"Stay totally still!" Aeris whispered, holding back laughter.

For a few moments, neither of them moved.

Then the voice spoke again. "I'm _trying_ to sleep!"

Red XIII's voice.

"Oh my God," said Aeris, hands over her mouth.

Tifa glanced out of the window. "His tail's gone out!"

"Yes, it has." Red XIII evidently had better hearing than they'd realised-- or they were just too drunk to tell how loud they were. He gave his coat a shake, liquid spattering the walls. "What was that, beer? _Why_?"

"Sorry, accident!" Aeris called down, though it took nearly a minute to get the words out through the laughter.

Red XIII growled and stalked off. Behind him, the remains of the tail-flame glowed, reddish in the dark.

The next morning, Red was (understandably) cool with them, but all in all, it was a great night. Weeks later, Tifa would remember it, when they reached the City of the Ancients.

**Author's Note:**

> >:D
> 
> This came out of thinking about my private subtitle to 'The Martian': 'Sexual Harrassment in Space'. I enjoyed the book, but damn, imagine getting an email from a coworker like the one Johanssen receives from Watney. She probably wanted to go to Mars in the first place to get away from guys like him.
> 
> So I wound up thinking about this sort of thing, then thinking about how the 'oh god it's him again' dynamic doesn't seem to make it into that much fiction (maybe I'm just reading the wrong things?); I feel like getting a nickname based on a creepy thing some guy has said at some point is pretty common. So I just rambled on with myself and this is what I got after a while.
> 
> And, oops, let's just pretend I was going for meta, by making the start sound like something relayed by the muffin man who lives on yuri lane


End file.
